


I hate that I love You

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Derogatory Language, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Internal Conflict, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, all of this is very unhealthy, be warned, but BOY does he like it, jeremiah doesn't want to like it, jerome knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: Jerome was as possessive as Jeremiah was jealous, he remembers the hours he's spent in the wardrobe for smiling at someone that wasn't Jerome, he remembers the horrid drawings he'd scribble in his notebook of the countless girls that touched Jerome's arm or giggled stupidly at one of his jokes.Jeremiah remembers how he'd draw them with their limbs severed, or their hearts ripped out.





	I hate that I love You

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most EXPLICIT thing I have ever written. And I gotta tell y'all, I'm nervous as fuck about posting it.
> 
> I really don't wanna say too much about it this time. I really, really hope it's okay. Writing in a foreign language is a challenge on its own, but sex? Holy shit. That's the master level, folks. This is probably all over the place. 
> 
> Oh, before I forget, we'll just pretend that Jimbo and Harvey still have no idea where Miah/Xander lives, okay? Okay. Great we settled that.
> 
> By the way, I honestly tried not to get too touchy-feely with this one. Rewrote it about seven times and I'm actually quite okay with the amount of lovey-dovey shit. I just can't go completely without it, it seems. Oh well ~
> 
> Please tell me what you guys think! Much love 💙

"Still so pretty..."

Jeremiah shudders when Jerome's breath ghosts over his ear. He turns his head away, but Jerome follows, his nose running along the side of Jeremiah's face. "You were always so very _pretty..."_

He spews out the last word like it's venomous and Jeremiah feels his chest tighten. His brother still has his wrists pinned to the wall and he tries to struggle against the hold again. It's no use. Jerome is stronger than him. Jerome was always stronger than him.

"Stop...", the younger twin pleads, his voice as quiet as a mouse's cough. Jerome snickers and presses his lips to Jeremiah's earlobe. "But I don't _want_ to", he hisses, pressing his knee between Jeremiah's legs now. The younger twin chokes on a gasp, shivering, fairly certain Jerome's grip is the only thing keeping him on his feet at this point. His legs are quivering and it feels like his brother is draining him of all the energy he has with his mere presence.

He tries to ignore the tingle of his skin, the swell of his heart.

Jerome's face is pressed against Jeremiah's neck. The younger twin tries to pull away from the touch again, to no avail. "And _you_ don't want me to either, baby bro."

It's wrong, so wrong and so like Jerome to suggest something so horrific, so disgusting. Jeremiah is not like that. He's not like Jerome. He didn't ask for this, he doesn't want this, he doesn't crave it, he doesn't need it like the air he breathes, he _doesn't._

Jerome continues saying these horrid things, things that make Jeremiah's stomach twist _(not with want not with want not with want)._ "I can see it in your eyes, feel it on your skin..." Jerome's tongue licks a trail up Jeremiah's neck and he doesn't moan. _He_ _doesn't moan._ "You crave this, you need this."

Jerome is in his head again, like he always was when they were kids, digging for Jeremiah's deepest, darkest secrets, twisting his every thought, bending Jeremiah's mind to his will, using it against him. "Twisted little fuck."

Jerome is showering Jeremiah's neck with kisses now but it isn't affectionate. He's mocking the younger twin, coaxing out those treacherous sounds Jeremiah cannot longer deny to be moans. But it's not his fault. "You're the twisted one, Jerome, _not me",_ he presses out through clenched teeth, wishing he could believe the lie himself because if he can't, how could Jerome?

The older twin snickers. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? Why? Does it help you sleep at night?"

He lets go of Jeremiah's wrists and instead loosens his tie. He knows Jeremiah won't fight. Jeremiah hates him for knowing. "Does it justify your betrayal?"

Jerome throws the tie over his shoulder, pushes Jeremiah's suit jacket off his shoulders. His movements are more erratic now and there's anger in his voice. Anger and pain. Jeremiah knows these feelings better than anyone (except maybe Jerome). "Thinking I _deserved_ it?"

Something inside Jeremiah breaks at that. A jar he's sealed away fifteen years ago, a jar filled with forehead kisses, entangled limbs at night, shared laughter and intertwined hands. "No-!", he gasps, reaching up to grab at Jerome's collar.

His brother stops undressing him, looks at him in honest surprise. Jeremiah recognizes the shadow in his eyes, the shadow he fears to this day. But there's something else there too, something reserved for Jeremiah only.

The younger twin feels his eyes prickle with tears. "You...you didn't deserve that, Jerome...", he confesses and averts his gaze when he hears how shaky his voice is. He's staring at his fingers, grasping Jerome's silly suit. It's too colorful and the tie doesn't match. It's so fitting, Jeremiah realizes, because on anyone else, the outfit would look ridiculous. Of course Jerome makes the style his own, like he always did with everything, every room, every croud and even Jeremiah.

His fingers are trembling as he clings to the rough fabric, stubbornly blinking the tears away. Fuck. Fucking Jerome. "I'm sorry..."

Jerome is silent, too silent. Silence means danger but a lot of things mean danger with Jerome, silence, boredom, pent up energy, jealousy, loneliness. Jerome is dangerous.

Jeremiah loves it and that is dangerous too.

He feels hands on his, gently prying them off of Jerome's collar. Then cold air hits his chest and hears buttons clatter to the floor, prompting him to snap his head back up, eyes wide.

Jerome has ripped his shirt open. He's leaning back in now, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Jeremiah's neck. He closes his eyes tightly, fighting the urge to press closer to his twin. "Please", he whispers, Jerome's hands leaving his skin hot where they trail over his chest and sides. "Don't do this..."

Jerome pushes Jeremiah's shirt off his shoulders. "Oh, I've _missed_ your begging, baby brother..." His voice is dripping with malice. It's the same tone that always sent Jeremiah to the moldy darkness of the wardrobe. "Go on. Beg some more."

He remembers it vividly, feels the harsh wood against his skin as he bangs his closed fists against the door, crying, screaming until his throat burns, _please, please, I'm sorry, Jerome, please let me out, PLEASE._

Jerome is working open his pants now and Jeremiah feels the wetness of his cheeks. He's crying. He feels helpless and lost, he hates Jerome but he longs for a hug, longs for his big brother to hold him and soothe him and make him feel safe. Jeremiah is back in the wardrobe, pleading, scared, hurt.

But then the door opens and he falls forward into his twin's awaiting arms, his hand combing through his hair and Jeremiah feels warm, protected, loved. _I forgive you, baby brother._

He's being pulled in so many directions, he doesn't know which way to go. Towards Jerome or away from him.

"Look at you, you're _loving_ this." Jerome's words are cruel because they're the truth. But Jeremiah can't tell him that. He hasn't even admitted it to himself yet. He can't, this is wrong, he can't possibly _want_ this.

"I'm your _brother,"_ he whimpers desperately, more and more tears streaming down his cheeks. It feels so good, having Jerome this close, touching him like this. What is _wrong_ with him? "Don't...don't do this..!"

His pants drop down to his ankles. Jeremiah gasps when Jerome's hand cups him through his boxers. The older twin's lips are at his ear again. "We didn't grow up as brothers", he hisses, making Jeremiah whimper as he roughly palms him through the fabric. "And whose fault is that?"

Jeremiah knows that Jerome is only saying that to hurt him. They did grow up as brothers, at least to some extent. There was always something twisted in the way they loved each other, Jerome viewing Jeremiah as a toy, his _favorite_ toy and Jeremiah playing along just to get his brother to give him the tenderness he craved.

Jerome was as possessive as Jeremiah was jealous, he remembers the hours he's spent in the wardrobe for smiling at someone that wasn't Jerome, he remembers the horrid drawings he'd scribble in his notebook of the countless girls that touched Jerome's arm or giggled stupidly at one of his jokes.

Jeremiah remembers how he'd draw them with their limbs severed, or their hearts ripped out.

They've always felt things one shouldn't feel for their twin brother and as they grew older, they just became stronger and shifted into unspeakable emotions _(want need lust mineminemineminemine)._ Jeremiah would feel it bubble in his chest every time Jerome was mentioned on the news, every time he looked at the picture their mother sent him on their fifteenth birthday, Jerome in front of the trailer, wearing a tank that showed off his built body, his smile as bright as the sun itself.

They did grow up as brothers. But fate has twisted that into something neither of them could deny, as much as Jeremiah tried.

He's still trying. He's trying so hard not to close his eyes and moan out Jerome's name, press closer to him, rid him of his own jacket, shirt and pants so they could be the same again. They are the same, they've always been the same.

Jeremiah finds that he wants them to be the same. He wants to match Jerome. He's always wanted to match Jerome. And he's always been afraid of the day that he finally would. 

"Not gonna fight me?" Jerome's voice is a purr and it makes Jeremiah shiver. He is still stroking Jeremiah through his underwear, his forehead pressed against its former mirror image. "What happened there, baby bro? Come on, I like 'em _feisty..."_

That's only true to some extent. Jerome does love a challenge. But he also loves power, _having_ power over someone. Power over Jeremiah. There's nothing he loves more. Jeremiah knows because he loves it too.

He has his eyes closed but opens his mouth, trying to force out the words burning in his throat. "You're stronger than me..!"

"And that's what's stoppin' ya? Right."

Jerome giggles, high-pitched and excited, his lips trailing up the side of Jeremiah's face. "Keep pretending if it makes ya feel better. But don't get mad at me for doing what makes _me_ feel better."

Jerome hooks his fingers into the waistband of Jeremiah's pants, making the younger twin hold his breath. "Always wondered if we'd be the same size." Jerome pulls Jeremiah's boxers down at that and the younger twin bites back a whine. "...not quite, little brother..."

Jeremiah blushes darkly, feeling Jerome staring. "You're still fully dressed", he croaks, still not looking at his brother. "How is that gonna make you feel better?"

Jerome chuckles, trailing one finger along Jeremiah's length. He bites back a whine. "You're not even looking at me, how can ya be so sure? Maybe we're matching already, like we should..."

Always in his head, always reading his mind. Jeremiah gulps and does finally open his eyes. He immediately scowls when he spots an indeed fully dressed Jerome grinning at him. "Glad you're enjoying yourself", he spews out and Jerome throws his head back with a laugh. Jeremiah's heart does a somersault and he'll deny it until the day he dies.

He wonders if that day is today. He wonders if Jerome's laugh is the last thing he'll ever hear. He wants it to be.

The older twin takes a step back. "Ya want me to undress? Say it."

Jeremiah looks at Jerome as if he grew a second head _(I'm the second head),_ making him grin even wider. He opens his arms in an inviting gesture, rubbing the fact that Jeremiah is completely bare in front of him in his face. "Tell me what'cha want."

Jeremiah can feel how hot his cheeks are. His tears have dried and make his skin itch. He wonders if Jerome will lick them away later, replacing the itch with a pleasant tingle _(stop don't go there STOP)._

"Why should I lose my clothes if there's nothing to gain from it?", Jerome asks teasingly, eyes roaming Jeremiah's body hungrily. The younger twin feels like not only his body, but his heart and soul are laid bare before Jerome. "Come on, golden boy. Tell big brother what ya want him to do."

Jeremiah knows Jerome can be patient when he wants to. He has no choice _(yes you do scream run fight stop wanting this)._ "I...", he presses out, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I want..."

_(don't say it there's no going back if you say it)_

_(I don't want to go back)_ "I want...you..."

Jeremiah hopes the floor is gonna rip open beneath him and swallow him whole. But it's Jerome who swallows him whole, it's always Jerome. "To dooo...what?"

Jeremiah shoots his smirking brother a glare. He thinks it must look ridiculous, with the dark blush on his cheeks. "You _know_ what."

Jerome purses his lips and taps his chin in mock thought. "Nah, I'm afraid I don't. Ya gotta use your words. Come on, brainiac, you were always so _good_ with words."

Jeremiah recognizes the jab for what it is. Fifteen years ago, he used his words to free himself from Jerome and therefore sealed his doom. He inhales shakily, closing his eyes. "I want you...to..."

He wants to feel loved again. He wants Jerome to protect him, he wants Jerome to make him feel safe. He wants Jerome to forgive him. He wants Jerome to look at him, only at him.

He thinks about the headless girls in his notebook. He knows he's capable of more than drawing now. He knows he's just as broken as Jerome. He knows they're not children anymore and that there's only one way for them. Maybe it always was the only way.

He opens his eyes. "Fuck me."

Jeremiah can see what it does to Jerome, hearing him say these words. He stands up a little straighter, there's a dark spark in his eyes, not quite the feared shadow.

But of course, his brother isn't satisfied yet. He brings a hand to his ear. "Say that again?", Jerome asks in a tone that's so innocent, it feels wrong. Jerome is as far away from innocent as he is from sanity. "I don't believe I heard that right. Did you just honestly ask _me,_ your _twin brother_ to have my way with ya? My, my."

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue and Jeremiah wants to rip it from his skull for mocking him like this. He's never felt so vulnerable before in his entire life and _Jerome gets off on it._ He bites his lip in anger and averts his gaze to the floor, ignoring the throb between his legs and the goosebumps on his skin.

"You're a special kind of fucked up, ain't'cha, Miah?", Jerome coos now, taking a step forward, and then another, lifting his hands and caging the younger twin against the wall. Jeremiah gasps but doesn't look up, keeping his gaze down. _Miah._

_"I love you, Miah."_

_"Why are you crying, Miah?"_

_"It's okay, Miah."_

_"Why would you do that, Miah?"_

_"I told you what happens, Miah."_

_"Be good and I'll let you out, Miah."_

_"You're mine, Miah."_

Jerome's voice is at his ear, his breath hot and demanding. "Say it again, golden boy. So loud mommy dearest can hear you down in hell."

The thought makes his skin crawl. Jeremiah inhales shakily, eyes squeezed shut. _We're going to join her in hell._

_But we were going to anyway._

He lets his head drop forward, resting his forehead against Jerome's collarbone. After fifteen years, it still fits perfectly, like it was meant to be there. Jeremiah knows it was. "Fuck me", he whispers again, his cheeks heating up even though Jerome can't see. He's glad he can't.

He feels Jerome's face in his hair and the sensation is so familiar that it makes his heart sting. Jeremiah missed this. He missed Jerome. He tried so hard not to, tried so hard to resent him, hate him, forget him. But Jeremiah _missed him._

"A special kind of fucked up", Jerome repeats in an almost gentle tone, nuzzling Jeremiah's hair and he can't help the sob that forces itself out of his throat. "Just like me."

A string snaps and heat pools in Jeremiah's stomach. He's done trying. He's done fighting. He pulls away, grabs Jerome by the jaw and surges forward again, their lips connecting with much more force than necessary. Except maybe, given the circumstances, it is necessary.

Jerome responds immediately, his arms wrapping around his waist and pressing their bodies flush together, thrusting his tongue in Jeremiah's mouth when he parts his lips. Something clicks in place and Jeremiah moans, hooking his own arms around his twin's neck, wanting to be closer, closer, _closer._

It feels incredible. It feels like coming home. Jeremiah feels himself tear up again but Jerome swallows down his sobs before they can even leave his throat, slamming Jeremiah into the wall. The concrete is cold against his bare back and it makes him shiver but the pain of the impact is grounding. He wonders if that's Jerome's intention. He probably just hopes it is. 

Jerome's hands leave his body for a moment and Jeremiah hears a zipper being pulled down. A shiver runs down his spine when Jerome's hands return, fingers digging into the back of his thighs and swiftly picking him up. He gasps, legs wrapping around his twin's waist as his back connects with the wall again, but notably gentler this time. It's confusing. But all of this is.

His twin abruptly breaks the kiss but Jeremiah doesn't even get to gasp for air because three fingers get shoved inside his mouth. He chokes and Jerome snickers. "You're lucky ya got me in a good enough mood to even prep ya at all", he whispers, his tone of voice much warmer than his words are. "Was gonna go in dry and _break you,_ precious boy."

Jeremiah whines but sucks greedily on the digits, squeezing his eyes shut. It feels like a rush. He's floating in a space between heaven and hell. Purgatory maybe. But for that, it feels too good.

"Eager beaver, huh?" Jerome giggles, spreading his fingers inside Jeremiah's mouth, making him gag. "I can do eager beaver." He rips his fingers from Jeremiah's mouth and he gasps for air, eyes blown wide behind his glasses. He lets his head drop backwards against the wall and Jerome leans in, nosing at his jaw. "Tell me somethin'."

Jeremiah chokes on a gasp when he feels pressure against his entrance. He shivers, his eyes closing again. _This is happening._

Jerome starts circling a finger around the tight ring of muscle teasingly and Jeremiah bites his lip.

He's tried to do this to himself once. But the guilt about whose finger he imagined it to be was paralyzing, so he gave up before he even pushed it in. It's sort of ironic.

"Ya ever let someone fuck you before?", Jerome asks right next to his ear and it makes Jeremiah flinch. He doesn't want to answer, his face feeling unbearably hot. It's horribly humiliating and to make it even worse, Jeremiah hides his face in Jerome's neck. He's always liked it here back in the day. His stomach twists at the realization that he still does. 

Of course Jerome catches on. His sardonic giggle is like a punch in the gut and Jeremiah _hates_ how he digs his fingers in Jerome's suit jacket to feel him even more. "Big brother gets to pop your boy cherry", Jerome coos, flicking his tongue over Jeremiah's earlobe. He shivers. "That's my kind of humor."

Jeremiah doesn't have the time to feel offended because Jerome suddenly shoves his finger inside. He chokes on a gasp and arches his back out of reflex, which proves to be a very, _very_ bad mistake because he only impales himself further on the digit and it _burns,_ it's too much, too _fast._

Jerome snickers, starting to pump his finger in and out of him without giving the younger twin even a second to adjust. He thinks if he grips Jerome's jacket any tighter, he might rip it but he can't control himself, it hurts, it _hurts_ and he's crying again.

But he can't even drop his head forward to hide his face in Jerome's neck. He can't move. His body is trembling but he can't _move._

"Awww, hurts? Poor _baby,"_ Jerome hisses, a second finger pushing into Jeremiah's hole and he can't breathe. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jeremiah tries to focus on anything else, his heartbeat, his pulse but they're both going unnaturally fast because _Jerome has shoved two fingers inside of him and Jeremiah feels like he's being ripped apart._

"I'm gonna ruin you, golden boy", Jerome whispers, running his nose along the side of Jeremiah's face. The gesture is painfully gentle, given the agonizing stretch and the harsh nature of his words. "You're gonna see my face every time you close your eyes."

_(I already do.)_

Jerome crooks his fingers and the pain is _excruciating_ but at the same time, Jeremiah feels something else. Jerome did something, _hit_ something, flicked a switch that makes his mind explode into a flock of stars. His eyes snap open and he moans, breathless and pathetic.

It's good. The pain is still there, pulsating and merciless but whatever Jerome just did, Jeremiah needs to feel it again. He tries to push closer to Jerome with a high-pitched whine, tries to make him brush that spot again and the older twin giggles.

"Such a needy little whore. Momsie would be so _proud."_ He pushes in the third finger and its like he flipped the switch back. It burns again, Jerome is tearing him apart and Jeremiah seems to immediately forget what he felt a second ago.

"Jerome..!", he forces himself to say, his voice more breath than anything else. He wraps his arms fully around Jerome's shoulders, clinging to him for dear life and its disgustingly pathetic. "Please...slo-slower..!"

Jerome licks a trail from Jeremiah's neck up to his ear, making him gasp. "Mmmh, love it when you beg", he mutters before quickening the pace of his fingers and Jeremiah's muscles hurt from how much he's tensing up.

"But I also love it when you _cry."_ Jerome's grin is audible and Jeremiah whimpers desperately. He tangles a hand in Jerome's hair, unconsciously gripping when his twin crooks all three of his fingers harshly. "Please..!", he tries again, prompting Jerome to moan right into to his ear. 

"That's a good boy. Beg for Daddy," he murmurs and _fuck,_ it goes straight to Jeremiah's cock and he whines desperately. Jerome exhales harshly against his neck. "Jesus Christ, the sounds you make...come on, baby bro, gimme some more."

He bites down on Jeremiah's neck, lighting him on fire. He whimpers, unconsciously throwing his head back to give his brother more access, his arms tightening around him. Jerome starts sucking at the spot he bit and Jeremiah's face heats up because he knows why he's doing this, it's not for Jeremiah's pleasure. Not even for Jerome's own.

He's marking him.

_Claiming him._

Jerome abruptly rips his fingers from Jeremiah's hole, making him choke on the breath he sucks in. His twin grips him by both hips and pushes him down on the floor. "This is gonna hurt", he promises as Jeremiah blinks up at him with hazy eyes. He's grinning maliciously, but his voice doesn't match. Jerome doesn't sound malicious at all. But Jeremiah isn't sure if he can trust his own judgement right now.

Jerome grips the back of his thighs and spreads his legs apart. Jeremiah can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He stares up at his brother, takes in his restless pupils, the flushed cheeks, the sweat beads on his temple. The scars.

It's the first time he really sees them. He wonders who did that to him, what the motive was. He wonders if Jerome did it himself. The thought makes his heart clench. Maybe he couldn't bear looking at his face anymore, maybe he didn't want to share a face with Jeremiah anymore.

Without thinking, Jeremiah props himself up on his elbows and lifts a trembling hand. He runs his fingers down the side of Jerome's face, tracing the damaged skin. The scars look like they should feel rough, or rubbery. But they're smooth. They feel nice.

They look nice too. They suit Jerome, as painful as it is that they no longer look the same. They make him look more like the person he is on the inside, fierce, ruthless, dangerous.

His deep blue eyes still look the same as they did when they were children. Sharp and knowing. Warm and gentle. Just like the person he is on the inside.

Jerome lets him touch the scars, a small, crooked smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "To think I used to be the handsome one, right?", he whispers and Jeremiah can tell he isn't serious. Nonetheless, his face falls and he presses his hand flat to his twin's cheek.

"You still are", he breathes out, rubbing his thumb over Jerome's bottom lip. It's unnaturally thin and strangely enough, it didn't feel as thin when they kissed. It felt good. It felt right.

Jerome suddenly dives into him, his grip on Jeremiah's thighs tightening when their lips meet and he licks into his mouth, making Jeremiah wrap his arms around his neck and pull him closer.

He feels pressure at his entrance again and this time, it's definitely not a finger. Before Jeremiah can even process what's happening, Jerome starts pushing inside.

He breaks the kiss with a whimper that's more breath than sound, his forehead pressing against Jerome's so hard that it hurts. Good. He needs to focus on something else because Jerome doesn't stop, it doesn't seem to _end_ and Jeremiah sobs because it _hurts,_ it hurts so much worse than he could ever have imagined.

Jerome's breath is hot against his face and he can feel that he's trembling ever so slightly. "Fuck", he breathes out, digging his nails into the flesh of Jeremiah's thighs, making him cry out. "So fucking tight...so fucking _good."_

Jerome stops for a second and time seems to stand still. He's fully sheathed inside Jeremiah and it's only then that they both seem to realize what is happening. Jeremiah is still whimpering at the agonizing stretch but he cracks his eyes open. He needs to see his brother.

Jerome looks down at him in awe. His eyes are as beautiful as they ever were and Jeremiah's thinks he's going to drown in them. He used to dream of it a lot when he was younger, not long after leaving the circus. He'd dream of Jerome's piercing gaze, growing and growing until he got devoured, surrounded by blue. 

Jeremiah arches his back when Jerome pulls out before pushing in again. He sets a rhythm, not fast but _brutal_ and for the first time since they started this, Jeremiah screams. Jerome lowers his mouth to his jaw and then his neck, not kissing or biting, just feeling him.

Jeremiah's trembling fingers find Jerome's hair again and he curses the fact that his brother is still fully dressed. He wants to drag his nails down Jerome's back, make him hiss, make him groan.

Jeremiah wants to leave marks too.

Jeremiah wants to claim Jerome too.

"Like two puzzle pieces, huh, brainiac?", Jerome whispers in his ear now and Jeremiah's only answer is a needy whine. Jerome snickers before moaning breathlessly. "Should've found ya years ago. _Fuck..!"_

The pain of his thrusts is slowly dulling down but instead, Jeremiah becomes painfully aware of the throbbing of his cock. He bites his lip when Jerome's teeth sink into the sensitive skin on his neck again and untangles his fingers from Jerome's hair to wrap them around his aching cock.

He gasps when Jerome's own hand abruptly lets go of his thigh and shoots forward, gripping his wrist. "Oooh, no no no no, naughty boy", he growls, forcing Jeremiah to lay back down, pinning both of his wrists next to his head.

Jeremiah stares up at him pleadingly but Jerome only grins, wriggling his eyebrows before dipping down, sliding his tongue from Jeremiah's chest up to his neck. Jeremiah gasps, arching his back, trying to fight the grip on his wrists. "Ya ain't coming until I _allow_ it", Jerome croons in his ear and Jeremiah squeezes his eyes shut, a sound escaping him that's not quite a moan and not quite a sob.

But it's desperate. Raw desperation in the form of a sound.

Jerome's thrusts are quicker now and Jeremiah's legs, which he's wrapped loosely around Jerome's hips when he pinned him down, pull him in closer, begging for more and harder and faster and _oh God -!_ "Jerome, _please,_ I -! I can't..!"

Jerome lets out a gruff laugh. "Such a needy little cockslut. _My_ needy little cockslut", he hisses and Jeremiah sobs, flexing his fingers against his brother's crushing grip. The lewd words are embarrassing, degrading and Jeremiah wants _more._

"How's it feel, huh? How's it feel getting _fucked_ by your twin?", Jerome asks and Jeremiah shakes his head without answering. He doesn't think he can.

The older twin growls, quickening his thrusts again, biting Jeremiah's earlobe before hissing: "If ya plan on coming _at_ _all_ today, better fucking _speak up."_

Jeremiah tries to get enough air to speak but Jerome just _won't slow down._ "So...good..!", he manages to croak, his voice thick with tears. He doesn't know why he's crying again, or if he ever stopped. If he'll ever stop again. He feels too much, he's not even sure if he wants release, or if he wants this to go on forever. Or at least until he dies from a heart attack. 

_(Because what if Jerome leaves him again when this is over?)_

His twin's voice is harsh and demanding. "What's good? Say it." He releases one of Jeremiah's wrists and digs his fingers in his cheeks instead, holding his head in place so their gazes meet. "Say it, you little slut."

Jeremiah's head is pounding, he doesn't dare to close his eyes but Jerome is hitting that _spot_ again with every thrust and he can't _take it._ "Getting...", he presses out, his free hand coming up to wrap around Jerome's wrist. "Getting fucked...by my twin..!"

Jerome exhales harshly and leans in, nuzzling his nose against Jeremiah's. "Good boy", he praises, sliding his hand in Jeremiah's hair, gripping and Jeremiah whimpers, now squeezing his eyes shut. He feels a warm wetness on his cheek and his stomach twists, his chest feels hot.

Jerome is licking away his tears. "You fucking love it, don't you?", he murmurs against the wet skin, prompting Jeremiah to shiver in pleasure at the hit of hot air before Jerome moves to the other cheek. 

Jeremiah moans, shaking in absolute bliss. "Yes..!" His other hand is still pinned to the floor and he tugs, hopes Jerome understands. Jerome does, actually letting go of Jeremiah's wrist, running his hand down his chest instead. Jeremiah hopes the whine he lets out sounds somewhat grateful.

He reaches up to wrap his arms around Jerome's neck again. He feels warm like this. _Safe._ "I do..! I love it, I -! Oh _God,_ Jerome, _please -!"_

Jeremiah's pleads dissolve into a cry when, _finally,_ Jerome's fingers wrap around his cock, but he's not moving his hand yet. "Did you think about me?"

Jeremiah gasps. He opens his eyes, tries to turn his head to look at Jerome but he won't allow it, pinning him to the floor with his body, the grip on his hair tightening as he thrusts harder.

Jeremiah understands. He closes his eyes again, lets his lips graze over Jerome's earlobe. "Every day", he whispers, arching his back with a broken moan when Jerome starts pumping his cock in alignment with his thrusts. 

"Did you miss me?" He bites Jeremiah's shoulder again. "So much..!", he cries out, his arms tightening around Jerome's neck. He can feel it building and it's _embarrassing_ because Jerome only just started touching him there. But he can't help it. It's so good. All of this. All of _Jerome._

The older twin suddenly sits back on his heels, pulling Jeremiah with him, the new angle making him go deeper and Jeremiah thinks he's going to _die._

Jerome wraps his free arm around Jeremiah's slender waist, still jerking him off with the other hand as he pounds into him, making him cry out with every thrust. "Are you mine?"

His voice is deep and rough and desperate. Jeremiah enjoys that he's not the only one feeling desperate, although the revelation hits him like a brick.

_(Tell the truth. Make him stay.)_

Jeremiah leans in. His arms are still hooked around Jerome's neck when he aligns their foreheads. "Always was," he whispers, moaning when Jerome's movements become erratic. "Always will be."

He's shaking, panting against his Jerome's face, pushing as close to him as he can. _"_ _Yours..!"_

Jerome curses and the feeling of his cock twitching inside of him, filling him with hot release, pushes Jeremiah over the edge as well. His mind explodes, he gives a full body shudder from the overwhelming pleasure and arches his back as he comes all over his stomach and Jerome's hand, his brother's name on his lips like a prayer.

They collapse against each other, holding each other close, breathing each other in. Jeremiah is shivering and Jerome lets him cuddle into him, running a hand over his back.

Jeremiah nuzzles his face against Jerome's neck, curling further into him, wincing when his brother's now soft cock slides from his hole. He can feel himself dripping with cum. Jerome's cum. _Jerome._

"Never leave me again, Miah", the older twin pleads, burying his face in Jeremiah's hair. Jeremiah can feel him inhale deeply, inhale his scent, _their_ scent and his words are like a warm blanket draped around him in a cold winter night.

He presses as close to Jerome as he possibly can. "Never again", he promises and he means every word. He can never be without Jerome again. He'd die without Jerome. He's been dying for the last fifteen years.


End file.
